What Really Happens in Light's Bag of Chips
by The Maiden of Autumn
Summary: Any Death Note fan knows how much Light loves potato chips- the delicious, salty little buggers. But no one knows how much potato chips fear being eaten- or the futile attempts they make to avoid their fate being chomped into small bits in Light's mouth. Crackish, told from a potato chip's POV. Potato chip horror. Mentioned LightxL


Disclaimer: The Maiden of Autumn owns nothing

* * *

Potato chips were meant to be eaten; every chip knew that.

It was what they became aware of as they were sliced from being one, single, conscious potato into numerous thin slices. It was what they learned while being washed to make them sparkling clean and become worthy of going into a human's mouth. It was what they dreamed of while they were fried to crisp, golden perfection. And it was what occupied every chip's mind as they were salted with perfect amounts of special flavoring, in order to tantalize and please a human's tastebuds.

But most of all, it was what they feared as they were bagged and their resting place inflated with air to preserve their delicious freshness. They feared the horrible crunch that would signify the end of their short-lived lives, that horrible moment when they were picked up with greasy fingers and brought closer to that maw of hot breath, closer and closer until- oh, God! It was too late!

And then crunch- they were gone.

Just…

Gone.

Crunched to a paste and starting to dissolve in the presence of the enzymes of a human's saliva. And then down, they were brought to the humans' stomach, where they were broken down into microscopic bits and separated in  
every which way inside the humans' body.

Oh, the horror!

And so, when this certain package of potato chips was bought and opened, it was with a mounting sense of horror among the potato chip community that The Hand reached in and grabbed a few of them, drawing them out the bag and into the light, screaming.

The rest of the potato chips watched as their brethren were devoured, chomped into tiny bits and then inhaled.

But soon, a brave potato chip spoke up. "We must do something!"the chip urged, and the rest of the chips agreed. As one, they assembled into lines of armed potato chips, armed with guns that shot tiny bits of salt at breakneck speeds.

"Assemble to defeat The Hand!" the brave potato ship shouted, and when The Hand reached in once more, they let loose, chunks of salt flying every which way, hitting The Hand in deadly accuracy.

But they watched in terrified horror as the deadly pieces of salt did nothing to deter The Hand- instead, they bounced right off the fleshy armor of their enemy, having no effect whatsoever.

And the brave little potato chip dropped his gun and stared in resigned horror as The Hand came straight for him.

Sadly, he turned to his salty brethren, seeing them drooping resignedly as well, their guns clattering to the foil of the bag they were situated in. "My friends," the brave potato chip said sadly, raising a hand and saluting, even as he felt the inescapable looming presence of the hand behind him, coming straight for him to take him away to his soggy death, "it has been an honor to serve with you."

There were a few sniffles from the rest of the potato chips, mixed sadness at the loss of this potato chip, and fear at the knowledge that the same fate that had befell their friend was going to happen to them.

"Godspeed,"they all said, saluting back at the brave chip that had been grasped and was now being lifted away.

They watched as their friend was hauled up by The Hand and shoved into their other enemy, The Mouth.

They screamed in horrified tangent with their friend's pained cries as he was swiftly devoured, his thin, salty body being crushed and broken into little shards and bits.

And it was the final straw for some potato chips as they heard the wet gulp as the brave potato chip finally slid down The Mouth's gullet. Some fainted; but perhaps, it was better, for they were unable to see The Hand's  
return.

But the rest of the potato chips that were still awake could only tremble in fear, and then they screamed once more as the Hand descended again, its greedy appendages reaching out for more.

* * *

And Light Yagami, while in his salty-potato-chip-haze, dimly registered what he thought was the sound of a tiny voice screaming.

Pausing, Light closed his mouth and lowered his hand holding the chip, looking around curiously. Swiveling around in his chair, he turned to his roommate and erstwhile lover, who was enjoying a slice of cheesecake while crouching in their bed.

"Hey, Ryuuzaki, did you hear something. Like… a tiny voice screaming, or something?"

The black-haired man looked up, a single, ink-black eyebrow raised in question. "No, Light. I can't say I have heard something like that. Perhaps you are eating too much salt… sugar may help combat the effects of a salt  
overdose…"

Light snorted, turning back around and dismissing his sugar-obsessed lover. "No, Ruuzaki. I'll eat your sugar when you eat my salt."

Ryuuzaki paused for a moment, before a smirk slid over his face. "But Light, I eat your salt every night…" the man purred, chuckling.

Light only threw a glare at his perverted lover over his shoulder before returning to his computer, popping another potato chip into his mouth.

And if Light thought he heard that small little screaming sound again as he chewed, he paid it no nevermind, because the only place it could have come from was the bag sitting at his left hand, and really, the thought of potato chips screaming was absolutely ridiculous and improbable.

Potato chips having a consciousness?

Please.

Like that actually happened.


End file.
